


Open Your Heart Up

by 21bangsfangirl



Category: Black Panther (2018), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Blow Jobs, M/M, POV Alternating, Prince T'Challa, T'chucky - Freeform, Virgin Bucky, WinterPanther - Freeform, almost everyone comes up at one point, mentions of abuse, might be ooc at times
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-10 02:30:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14728274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/21bangsfangirl/pseuds/21bangsfangirl
Summary: T'Challa isn't trying to find love in the foreign land, but he finds one anyway.Bucky isn't waiting for a knight in a shining armor, but he gets one anyway.Or it isn't that serious. Seriously, T'Challa is just having a massive crush on the boy with the prosthetic arm, and Bucky is just trying to stay away from his uncle. Or maybe it is that serious.





	1. Remind Me of My Gravity

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings! It is I, 21bangsfangirl, contributing to the small ship that is T'Chucky or WinterPanther. I'm in love with this pairing.  
> I went through almost every fic in the T'Chucky relationship tag and haven't found any non-powered, college AU for this ship so voila!
> 
> Enjoy!

Remind Me of My Gravity

* * *

* * *

 

 

T’Challa would like to say it was his sister, Shuri’s fault that he was sitting in his mother’s quarter, discussing his love life. He knew what his sister was doing, which was to distract their mother’s attention from her first love. And T’Challa would entertain his mother and answer all her questions because he knew she meant well, but the problem was he actually didn’t have a significant other. Although such situation didn’t seem like a problem for Shuri because she was talking about his college crush.

“ You should see the way his eyes light up when he’s talking about this person that he likes, Mother!, ” Shuri explained to their mother expressively.

T’Challa whined, “ Oh come on, Shuri… ”

Their mother, who was sitting regally—T’Challa still doesn’t know how she did that—on their couch, smiled knowingly at T’Challa.

“ So how long have you been with this person, T’Challa?, ” Oh she was addressing him now. He really didn’t know how to answer to that, because he was not _with_ anyone.

T’Challa sent glares to Shuri, the girl only grinned apologetically in return.

“Uh…,” T’Challa started. He _really_ didn’t know what to say.

And then T’Challa was furiously thanking Bast in his head, because the door to the room they were in opened, announcing their father’s appearance.

“Father!,” T’Challa exclaimed.

“What’d I miss?,” his father, The King asked, walking towards the three of them and sat beside Shuri. Shuri scooted closer and rested her head on the King’s shoulder.

“Nothing interesting,” T’Challa said. He stood up before looking at Shuri, who seemed to be ready to tell their father about T’Challa’s crush. “Shuri, you need help building your new toy? I vaguely recall about holding the wires in place?”

T’Challa mentally sighed in relief as the subject seemed to stop Shuri from spilling the beans. His sister’s face lit up as the teen nodded furiously before standing up to follow T’Challa out of their parent’s quarter. T’Challa excused himself before making his way to Shuri’s lab, the owner trailing happily behind him.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you were doing in there, Shuri. Be grateful I agreed to play along. I really didn’t know how to answer those questions, because get this, I am actually _not_ in a relationship.”

Shuri whined and walked faster to match T’Challa’s steps so she was walking beside him instead of behind him.

“I know, thank you, Brother. They would probably lecture me on how I’m ‘too young’ to be in love or some sort. But Brother, you are so in love with this guy, you might as well be in a one-sided relationship with him, because you seem to be _committing_ to him.”

T’Challa scoffed as they turned a corner. “How am I _committing_ to him?”

“Oh come on, T’Challa, you aren’t short of people who want to be with you, both girls and boys, a lot of them are great, but you’re too in love with this person to even notice.”

“I don’t even know his _name_ , Shuri.”

Shuri laughed a mocking laugh. “Honestly, Brother? All you have to do is walk his way and introduce yourselves to each other.”

T’Challa grumbled, “We are not having this conversation anymore.”

Shuri laughed but didn’t push it.

 

* * *

 

T’Challa wasn’t big on socializing, he knew that. That being said he could actually socialize when it was needed. He could count the people he hung out with on one hand, which are his sister, Shuri, his childhood friends, Nakia and W’Kabi, and Okoye, the Dora Milaje assigned personally to him since they were fifteen, which was four years ago. He didn’t make any friends during his first semester of university, despite a few occasional acquaintances and assignments partners. He also didn’t tell anyone that he was the prince of a small African country.

T’Challa jumped out of the cab in front of his dorm. He briefly thanked the driver and paid him a considerable amount. He then started making his way inside. Six more months until he could go back to his country, and six more months of staring at the unnamed boy during lunch.

“Yo!”

T’Challa turned his head to the source of the voice. _Right,_ it was the campus club campaign week, or however they call it. The second semester was the semester where everybody busied themselves with activities out of the classroom.

“Are you talking to me?”

“Yeah man, who else?” The person made his way towards T’Challa and handed him a form. “We’re making a new charity club, would you like to join?”

T’Challa only looked at the person in confusion.

“Right, sorry. My name’s Sam, I’m in my second year. Me and a group of friends are establishing this new charity club we call ‘The Avengers Initiative’ and we’d like to offer you to join our club.”

T’Challa raised his eyebrows. “I’ll…think about it.”

“Oh come on, man! It’ll be awesome! Cool people only I swear. Hot people!”

“Yes, Sam. I’ll see if I can fit it in my schedule.”

“We’re so chill, I swear!” Sam sighed before putting his hands on T’Challa’s shoulders. “We need at least twenty people to make it happen, please man, help us.”

“Alright,” the words left T’Challa’s mouth before he could even think about it.

“Sweet! Just fill up your name, major, student ID and contact number,” Sam instructed him. Just like that, T’Challa was now a part of The Avengers Initiative, or whatever.

“Thanks…” Sam read the name on the form, “…T’Challa? Club meeting later at 4pm. I’ll text you the address. See you later, man.”

Sam grinned and ran off to recruit more students before T’Challa could say anything.

 

* * *

 

T’Challa had always thought himself as someone that would appease to his people’s needs as long as those needs were for the greater good. Perhaps he had seen Sam as one of his people and his request was not something that would kill T’Challa, on the contrary, it was a charity club meaning it would bring more good to people.

He walked up to the address that Sam had sent him. Standing on the wide land was a large house and loud music could be heard from inside. This was going to be a long night.

T’Challa rapped on the door a few times, composing himself so he would look presentable. He knew he was wearing one of his better clothes. If he were honest, he wanted people who would befriend him without knowing his title, so he did want to impress these people.

It wasn’t long before someone opened the door. It was a guy, didn’t seem to be older than him.

“Welcome. May I know who you are?” The man greeted in a polite English accent.

“I’m T’Challa. Sam Wilson invited me,” T’Challa answered.

“I’m Vision,” Vision stepped out of the way and motioned for T’Challa to get inside. “Please make yourself at home. I’ll let Sam know.”

 _What kind of name was Vision?_ T’Challa shrugged it off. He would never understand English people and their weird names.

“Yo, T’Challa!” Sam’s voice boomed calling out to him from the stairs. Sam quickly made his way to T’Challa. “So glad you made it! Don’t mind Vision. He’s _way_ too formal for his own good.”

“Oh. That’s fine, Sam.” T’Challa looked inside, trying to take the situation in. “So, are those the people from the club?”

Sam smiled brightly at him. “Come on, man. I want you to meet everyone!”

Then T’Challa found himself being dragged around by Sam to meet everyone in the house. He met different types of people that came from different places around the world, although most of them are still Americans. He found out that the house belonged to Tony Stark, who was dating the Club Leader, Steve Rogers, whom everyone called ‘Captain’ for some reason.

And _he_ was there.

The subject of T’Challa daydreams and fantasies. The guy was sitting with Steve, Tony and a redhead. He looked relaxed in a long-sleeved red shirt, baggy jeans and white sneakers. His shoulder length hair was tied loosely on his back, some short strands fell on his face framing his angular face.

“Whoa, man. I lost you there. You okay? Seemed like you froze or something,” Sam joked.

“I froze?”

“Totally did. Is it Natasha?”

“Natasha?”

“Yeah man, the Russian redhead. Natasha Romanoff. She’s real pretty.”

T’Challa looked at the scene in front of him again. Oh, _right_. She was pretty, but it wasn’t Natasha.

“Oh my God. Is it Tony? Or Steve? It can’t be Bucky though, I don’t see how people would find that ugly ass face attractive.”

“Bucky?”

Sam laughed at him. “Oh God, it _is_ Bucky. Well, fuck me.”

T’Challa was really confused at this moment. He supposed it showed in his face because Sam told him not to worry and just brought him closer to the aforementioned group of people.

“Hey everyone. New member here. This is T’Challa,” Sam introduced him briefly.

T’Challa nodded. He spared a sufficient amount of attention to everyone else before being completely struck on _Bucky_. There was finally a name for the face.

“What are you looking at?”

T’Challa was taken aback by the snarky words coming out of Bucky’s mouth.

“Excuse me?”

“Yes, I have a prosthetic arm. Get over it,” Bucky said. The guy didn’t even look T’Challa’s way. His posture calm, unmoving, but T’Challa could clearly see he was distressed.

T’Challa knew about the prosthetic left arm. Well, everyone who looked at Bucky could see it, and he’d been looking at Bucky for more than six long months.

“I wasn’t…” T’Challa tried.

“Of course you weren’t.”

“Buck, I’m sure the dude doesn’t mean any harm,” Steve told Bucky, placing a comforting hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “Do you, T’Challa?”

“Of course, not. I was just… I think you are really attractive.”

T’Challa’s comment took everyone by surprise. The stoic-faced Natasha twitched and T’Challa could see a hint of smile on her face.

“Well don’t you look at that, Barnes!” Tony started and turned to T’Challa. “He has mood swings, not that I don’t have them, but his are something else.”

“Tony…” Steve reminded Tony. There was commanding tone there.

“Right sorry, Mom. But T’Challa, don’t worry, Barnes is mostly bark less bite.”

T’Challa didn’t care what anyone else said. He just wanted to know how Bucky _Barnes_ ’ reaction is. Bucky’s head was tilted down a little, the strands of hair covering his face. T’Challa could tell that Bucky was a guarded person.

Sam tapped T’Challa’s back. “Well, we should meet everyone else. The meeting will start in a few minutes and I would like you to meet the rest of us.”

They continued their adventure around the house. T’Challa shook a few more people’s hands, nothing he wasn’t unfamiliar with. His Father told him mingling was really important in their line of work.

The meeting proceeded successfully. The Avengers Initiative, or Steve in particular, seemed to already have a rough overall plan on their charity programs for the upcoming year. T’Challa offered some of his opinion on how to make the programs better as he lived around people who really needed help. He found that everyone in the club was very accepting and would not reject any thought without discussing it first. He also found that Steve and Tony often had opposing opinions. T’Challa was quite surprised to discover this as before the meeting those two seemed like they would do anything for one another without questioning anything.

He also found that Bucky didn’t really talk much during the meeting and seemed to agree with whatever Steve said. He threw a few snarky comments here and there but never really said any real thoughts. T’Challa wondered if he really was sharing the same opinions as Steve or if there was something else going on that he didn’t know. Well, he didn’t know that _yet_. He wanted to know more about Bucky. He would start to follow Shuri’s advice.

T’Challa didn’t think the opportunity to get to know Bucky better would come this fast. He guessed Bast wanted him to discover this part of himself. T’Challa never viewed romance as something substantial, as something essential. He knew his parents loved each other and that they were happy by being together. He knew that Okoye and W’Kabi loved each other. He knew Shuri was happy when she was with her boyfriend. He thought he felt that way with Nakia, she was his best friend. They were comfortable with each other, but T’Challa didn’t feel the constant need to be around Nakia, didn’t feel the need to constantly touch Nakia. He didn’t understand, but perhaps he was starting to.

“Hey, Bucky,” T’Challa greeted Bucky.

The meeting was over and everyone was heading home. T’Challa actually _almost_ chased Bucky to have a more private conversation with the guy. He hoped Bucky would at least be civil with him. Bucky didn’t seem to appreciate his compliment earlier.

“Hey,” Bucky said back.

T’Challa waited for Bucky to say something, maybe to put some more words after his ‘Hey’, but he didn’t.

“Where do you live on campus?”

Bucky answered shortly with the dorm that he lived in. _This was not going to be easy._

“Can I perhaps walk you there?”

“’M fine, T’Challa. You should go back.”

The rejection hurt, but T’Challa was just getting started. He would leave Bucky alone, for now.

T’Challa smiled at Bucky. “Very well. I’ll see you around then.”

Bucky nodded curtly. T’Challa said goodbye to the rest of the people that were still in the house, Steve and Tony included, and started making his way back to his dorm. Well, he had classes to prepare for tomorrow anyway.

 

* * *

 

The next opportunity for T’Challa came two weeks after the meeting. He was in the library looking for some books when he saw Bucky sitting on the table near the tall windows on his own. There was an opened book and a pile of some other books on the table in front of Bucky, but the guy was staring out the window. His hair was put up on a bun now. A gray shirt and a dark denim jacket covering him from the chilly air of the library.

T’Challa brought his own pile towards Bucky. He would at least try to be _friends_ with Bucky.

“Hey, Bucky,” T’Challa greeted.

Bucky’s head snapped to his direction. His brows were furrowed and eyes focused. The aggressive expression evaporated when he saw it was T’Challa who was talking to him.

“Oh, hey T’Challa.”

“Do you mind if I sit next to you?”

“No, no. It’s okay. You can… You can sit if you want.”

Bucky quickly moved the books that were taking T’Challa’s part of the table.

“Thanks.”

They sat in silence for few long minutes. T’Challa wanted to start a conversation but he actually had to read the books that he took.

“Do you really think I’m attractive?”

Bucky’s sudden question actually surprised T’Challa. It really came out of nowhere. He had thought Bucky had not care about that.

T’Challa lifted his head and turned to look at Bucky. The guy was looking at him, eyes pleading. Again, T’Challa didn’t expect to see such expression on Bucky’s face.

“I do, Bucky.”

T’Challa watched Bucky’s face relaxed. He watched the tension that he didn’t know was there disappeared.

“Thanks. I… I think you’re attractive, too.”

T’Challa smiled before returning his attention back to the book he was reading, although he would like to try something. He told himself he should take his chances. So T’Challa scooted a little bit closer to Bucky, softly bumping his knee to Bucky’s. He glanced at the guy to subtly study his reaction.

Bucky’s face remained neutral. A few long stretches of minutes before Bucky’s phone rang. T’Challa sneaked a look and saw Steve’s name on the caller ID. Bucky quickly stood up and gathered his pile of books.

“I… I have to go, T’Challa.”

T’Challa forced a smile. “Of course, Bucky. Do you want me to help you with the books?”

“No, ‘m alright.”

“See you around then.”

Bucky didn’t reply. He all but ran towards the librarian desk and T’Challa watched as Bucky quickly made his way out of the library.

 

* * *

 

The next time T’Challa saw Bucky was during a club activity. The guy seemed to stick by Natasha’s side. T’Challa really tried to spend some time alone with the guy but the universe didn’t seem to be in his favour because he kept on being held by a number of reasons, like to actually get the club activity going. He also tried to catch up with Bucky after the activity was done, but when he turned around to talk to Wanda about the amount of money they had managed to raise from the event. One minute he could see Bucky’s flowing dark brown hair, next minute he lost him in the crowd.

T’Challa didn’t get to see Bucky for few long weeks before he caught a glimpse of the guy during another one of Tony’s party. This time he was alone, nursing a drink on his hand and staring vacantly at the floor.

“James…” T’Challa called out. He recently found out Bucky’s first name from Vision’s members list.

Bucky froze when he saw T’Challa approaching him with a smile.

“Hey, T’Challa. No one really calls me ‘James’ anymore.”

T’Challa sat next to Bucky on the couch. “Do you not like it?”

“No, it’s…,” Bucky exhaled. “It’s fine.”

They fell into a fairly generic conversation after that. Bucky seemed to be more relaxed and less guarded this time. The wit and sarcasm were there peppering Bucky’s words as he explained why he studied Literature. Bucky had always loved writing. He and Steve grew up together in Brooklyn and when they were younger they would go around the city looking for inspiration. Steve for his art and Bucky for his writings.

“That’s great, James,” T’Challa told him. Bucky replied with a smile.

“What about you, Challa? Why do you study law? Apart from you being extremely intelligent, I guess?”

T’Challa laughed.

“Actually, I’m…,” T’Challa contemplated for a bit on telling Bucky the truth about who he is. “I’m the next in line for the throne back home.”

“Oh wow. Really? That’s…That’s great! That explains so much then!”

T’Challa scooted closer. “How is that so?” He cheered himself on mentally when Bucky didn’t move away from the lessened distance.

“Whoa, honestly? I mean look at you, Challa! You’re perfect!”

“I’m perfect?”

T’Challa liked where this conversation was going. This meant Bucky liked him and thought he was decent.

“Yeah,”

T’Challa looked down from Bucky’s eyes to his lips. He didn’t how he managed to do that since the sapphire blue of his eyes was really captivating. He guessed was because watching Bucky talk was not in any way less captivating.

T’Challa didn’t know how it happened, why it happened. He had thought Bucky didn’t like him in the same way he did Bucky. But the next thing he knew was Bucky’s lips on his. Only to pull away way too quick for T’Challa’s liking.

“I’m sorry, I—“ Bucky stuttered. Bucky turned away from him, shoulders shaking.

“James. Hey, Bucky,” T’Challa called. He reached out to gently place his hand on Bucky’s shaking body.

“I shouldn’t. I wouldn’t,” T’Challa heard Bucky whispered to himself.

“Hey, hey. Look at me.”

T’Challa waited. Bucky didn’t look at him straight away but few seconds later he was turning back towards T’Challa. His eyes were watering, his lips shaking.

“It’s okay. I wanted to…do that for a while now.”

Bucky smiled and connected their lips again, slowly but sure. This time, T’Challa embraced it. It wasn’t his first kiss, but it sure did feel like it. T’Challa nipped gently at Bucky’s upper lip and the man opened up his mouth, tongue snaking out to taste T’Challa’s hungry one. T’Challa didn’t know how long they kissed, embracing each other’s presence. Bucky’s hands were clutching at his side while his own were still on Bucky’s previously shaking shoulders.

Eventually they had to come up for air. He watched Bucky’s long lashes as he opened his eyes slowly. The blue was darkened, still as mesmerizing as ever. Bucky then looked down and put his forehead against T’Challa’s shoulder. T’Challa laughed softly and kissed the top of Bucky’s head. Finally turning back his attention to the crowd, T’Challa was surprised when he saw Natasha sitting with her arms crossed on the couch beside the one T’Challa and Bucky was sitting on. She raised an eyebrow at T’Challa’s confused expression.

“How long have you—“

“Long enough to know he’s really attracted to you,”

Bucky mumbled something against his shoulder before snuggling his face against T’Challa’s chest.

“You look dopey,” Natasha commented.

“I’m sorry?”

“The lovesick face looks…good on you, Your Highness.”

T’Challa was going to say something to that but Natasha beat him to it.

“I’ve known since you first joined the club. There’s nothing you can really hide in the digital era. I was wondering when you were going to tell Bucky though, he doesn’t like being manipulated.”

“I’m not trying to— That’s fair,” T’Challa replied.

Natasha didn’t say anything after that. She stood up and left T’Challa and Bucky alone. Bucky’s head was still resting on his shoulder. T’Challa gently nugged Bucky.

“James…,” He whispered, as if they were alone in a dark room, instead of in Tony’s bright and loud living room.

Bucky was asleep, T’Challa realised only after the man slowly stirred awake. He moved his head from T’Challa’s shoulder, leaving warmth that T’Challa already missed.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to fall asleep on you. Literally,” Bucky grinned, calm blue eyes boring into T’Challa’s dark ones.

“It’s fine. Do you want to leave?”

Bucky looked away, a few seconds passed before he answered. “I’d like that, but Steve is gonna haul my ass away.”

“Oh, that’s—“

“No, that’s not okay, Challa,” Bucky frowned. “I want to spend time with you but Steve keeps on reminding me why I shouldn’t.”

T’Challa didn’t say anything to that. He didn’t know how to respond. It felt like if he did he would venture into a place that could threaten Bucky’s security.

“You know what? Whatever, fuck Steve. He’s probably in Tony’s garage ‘testing out’ Tony’s new car.”

Bucky stood up and pulled on T’Challa’s hand. T’Challa followed him. Bucky took them outside Tony’s house in a few wide steps. He stopped when they were at the front porch.

Bucky turned to T’Challa and asked him, “Can you walk me to my dorm, please, T’Challa?”

T’Challa smiled. “Of course.”

The walk to Bucky’s dorm was pleasant. Bucky was witty and T’Challa liked that. Since T’Challa was never actually good with witty comebacks, he was delighted to find that Bucky was. It was dark besides the dim lighting from the streetlights. Everything seemed romantic and T’Challa was mentally thanking Bast for the blessing given to him that was this moment.

It wasn’t long until they arrived in front of Bucky’s dorm. T’Challa’s steps slowed but Bucky held onto his wrist and dragged him to the elevator heading up to his floor. T’Challa wanted to question him, the words hanging on his tongue. But the stern look on Bucky’s face made him held his words back.

Bucky only let T’Challa’s hand go went they were in front of Bucky’s room. Bucky’s stern expression softened, but the lines around his eyebrows were still stern.

“Well, I guess this is me,” Bucky’s voice was low, teetering on the edge of a whisper.

T’Challa smiled. “I suppose I should g—“

“Ask me,” Bucky cut him.

“What?”

“Ask me, T’Challa,” Bucky insisted.

“Will you…,” T’Challa trailed off, staring into Bucky’s sapphire blue. “…let me stay the night?”

The question was hesitant. T’Challa didn’t even know if it was the question Bucky wanted T’Challa to ask. But the press of Bucky’s lips against his was enough reassurance to show him that _it was_.


	2. Need You For My Sanity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double sexy time!

Need You For My Sanity

* * *

* * *

 

 

It shouldn’t be this way. Bucky shouldn’t have to go behind Steve’s back to be with the person he liked. But Steve was so _annoying_.

“You know why you can’t, Buck. At least not now,” Steve had told him.

But Bucky was afraid. He had been watching the foreign guy for a few months and trying not to let anyone know. But of course, Steve had realized. It was the middle of the previous semester, which was Bucky’s first semester and Steve and Stark’s third, when Bucky spotted T’Challa. The prince—a title Bucky didn’t know T’Challa had then—was walking alone towards the administration office. Bucky was walking with Stark and Lang because they had Language class together. Apparently _engineers_ needed to study language too for some reason. Stark was talking to him, Bucky didn’t even remember what Tony wanted from him then. Something about classics maybe, but he wasn’t paying attention. He was looking at T’Challa and his perfect walk.

“Cat got your tongue?” Lang quipped.

“What?” Stark asked. Lang nodded his head at Bucky who had his eyes fixed on T’Challa.

“Wow, okay.” Stark commented before calling to him again. “Barnes.”

Stark had to say Bucky’s name three for times and added a shove on his shoulder before Bucky turned to him and managed to muster up a garbled up response. “Huh?”

“Okay, that was precious.”

“Wasn’t it though?! Is it first love, Barnes? Oh wait, your first love is now fraternizing with our resident player,” Lang teased. The nature of Bucky and Steve’s relationship was never clear to anyone. If Bucky were honest, it was unclear even to him and Steve. Steve was way too close to be a best friend but Bucky hated calling him a brother. Mainly because there was this _one time_ , but it wasn’t anything proper. Bucky didn’t care. People could think whatever they want. He cared a little bit about what Stark thought though, because Steve cared about what Stark thought.

Stark rolled his eyes before shooting Scott a glare. Bucky chuckled at the whole ordeal.

“Whatever, Lang. Your idea for final theses sucks anyway.”

Lang complained and that had triggered a full-blown nerdy argument between the two. Bucky was ready to drown out his friends’ voices again. He turned his head back to where T’Challa was queuing, but the man was no longer there. Bucky frowned, mentally cursing his stupid friends and their useless discussion.

He went home during the break. By home he meant the house he shared with his foster uncle, Helmut Zemo. A house he dreaded with his whole being, but a place he must always came back to. He wanted more than anything to leave the household, but he was too scared. He didn’t know where else to go. Most of his close friends lived not far from where he was. It would be as easy as a snap of the fingers for Zemo and his cronies to find him.

“Without me, you’d be dead long ago, boy.”

Zemo’s words echoed on his mind everytime the thought of leaving for good nudged on the edge of his thoughts. When the break came, Zemo would be waiting with his car in front of Bucky’s dorm with his fake, crooked smile. Eyes hard, commanding Bucky to quickly get in the car. When they arrived home, Zemo would treat him as a slave, even as far as to tell him to threaten the people who borrowed money from Zemo. Once, Zemo had told him to shoot one of the debtors but Bucky had refused, resulting in a few more scattered scars around the patches of skin that connected his prosthetic arm to his left shoulder.

Bucky was forced to say goodbye to hanging out with Steve outside campus when Zemo found out that Steve was in a relationship with a man, which was Stark. Stark was an abuse victim himself, having to live under Howard Stark’s roof for eighteen years. Steve went and rescued Stark like a knight in a shining armor and brought Stark to live with him and his mother. Bucky envied Stark a lot when that happened. Toxic thoughts of how Steve could have saved him instead of Stark were poisoning his brain for quite some time. Eventually, Bucky accepted that it was not his story.

Steve was fussy after finding the matter out. He became worse when Stark told Steve about Bucky’s little moment of lovestruck. It was annoying, overwhelming, constricting. Bucky knew what Zemo would do when he found out that Bucky was as much of a disgrace as Steve. Bucky suspected that Zemo would not allow him to leave the house and finish his education. Steve was right and Bucky loathed that. Steve did not get to do that, he did not get to decide. He didn’t get Bucky out from that wretched household, he didn’t have the right to _do this._

 

* * *

 

Casual relationships never interested Bucky. He didn’t know how people do it. He didn’t understand the nature of it. The idea of being intimate with someone without the emotional closeness was repulsive to him. Maybe that was the reason why Bucky was still a virgin, without taking a small number of fleeting flirting and that _one time_ with Steve. Maybe the other reason was that he was insecure with his prosthetic arm. He knew that he didn’t have to take everything off to have sex, but he just didn’t think anyone would find _that_ appealing.

So when T’Challa, the guy he thought was attractive and interesting even before knowing his name, told Bucky that he found Bucky attractive at the club meeting a.k.a Stark’s party, Bucky was taken aback. No one ever really complimented him. Not in the way T’Challa’s words made him feel.

“James…,” T’Challa whispered against Bucky’s neck, voice rough and laced with _want_. Bucky loved hearing it.

Bucky hummed in reply. He felt his head was swimming, in a good way. He never wanted to let the feeling go.

“You gotta tell me, James,” T’Challa pleaded. His nose trailed softly along the edges of Bucky’s Jaw. Bucky’s hand was toying with T’Challa’s curls. “Say the words, my sweet.”

They both were sitting side by side on Bucky’s bed in his darkened dorm room, still wearing all of the layers of their clothes from the party. Bucky’s thighs was atop T’Challa’s, his feet nudging on T’Challa’s calf.

“Please, James. Tell me,” T’Challa pushed again. His hand slowly caressed Bucky’s back.

“Ask me,” Bucky finally answered, voice cracking. This time he circled his prosthetic arm around T’Challa to keep him close. He didn’t want to be far from T’Challa even though he knew being far from each other was the least that T’Challa wanted to do right now, but he couldn’t be too confident.

“Do you want this?” T’Challa asked, still nuzzling against Bucky’s lightly stubbled jaw.

“I do,” he said, trying to give T’Challa as much wiggle room as he could. “But only if you do.”

T’Challa must have been barely holding onto his self-control because Bucky had only just said the words when T’Challa was on him, dragging them up until Bucky’s back was against the pillows. “I always want you,” he was saying roughly, kissing Bucky in frantic bursts.

“Then help me,” Bucky said, abruptly tired of the guilt welling up in his chest and unable to resist. “Help me get these things  _off_ ,” and he yanked at T’Challa’s jeans. Honestly, he didn’t know where the burst of confidence came from.

T’Challa wasn’t helping, was barely cooperative. He didn’t seem to want to stop touching Bucky, to stop kissing him, and Bucky almost couldn’t handle it. He finally got his knee up, got some leverage on the mattress and pushed T’Challa over.

T’Challa didn’t move, just stared intently into Bucky’s eyes. When Bucky took the extra room to pull his shirt up over his head, his hands were on Bucky immediately, ghosting down over his ribs, tracing a line up his chest.

Bucky saw his eyes drifted to where his skin met the prosthetic arm and Bucky wanted to drown himself. Nobody had ever seen him shirtless. The arm-to-shoulder sight wasn’t a pretty one. He started to believe that he didn’t think the plan through, but then again there was no plan. He just wanted to be close to T’Challa.

T’Challa seemed to sense his distress. “I don’t… mean to upset you by looking, James. I am sorry.”

“No, Challa. I… I just… I wasn’t thinking,” Bucky replied.

“We could stop if you want to, James.”

Bucky’s answer was too quick. “No!”

T’Challa waited a few beats for Bucky to say something. Bucky didn’t, he took his shirt back and put it back on. “Is it alright if I have this on?”

“Anything you want, my sweet.”

Bucky realized he had ruined the moment, he had to say something now. “You can take the bottoms off, though. I don’t… I have nothing to hide there, mostly.” Bucky kept his eyes on T’Challa’s enticing dark ones.

The smile T’Challa gave him was sweet, but the words he said next were sweeter. “I’ll have you in any way that you’ll let me, James.”

Bucky buried his face in his hands before pulling T’Challa down by the back of his neck and nipped lightly on his collarbone. “Can you help me, Challa? I don’t…know what to do.”

“Just lie down and relax for now, James. I’ll help you unwind”

T’Challa said something. Bucky didn’t catch it. He was tired. He felt safe like he hadn’t felt in a very long time.

He pulled him into his arms. “You are going to drive me crazy, James.” And the kisses that followed weren’t as sweet as they were filthy. These were the kind of kisses that made Bucky breathless, made his hands bury deep into dark curls, drawing out a moan that was half like a growl from T’Challa, whose hands, hung low on his hips, making their way down to palm Bucky’s ass as they grew breathless from the kisses they shared, but at the same time giving them a chance to breathe each other in.

The hands on Bucky’s backside dragged him forward until their hips met before traveling back up Bucky’s fevered body, delicious friction sending heat pooling down Bucky’s spine, a moan from both of them breaking the kiss as T’Challa began to trail his lips down his jawline, sucking marks into his neck again. Bucky heard himself moan out T’Challa’s name, and he saw T’Challa’s eyes darkened at the sound. Bucky’s hands grasped aimlessly and circled around T’Challa’s shoulders.

T’Challa resumed his kisses to Bucky’s jawline, pausing only to speak in his ear: “Have you been imagining this?”

And Bucky, normally cautious, threw his caution to the wind as he groaned out “Yes.”

He realized then that he was hard, and that T’Challa was hard, and that the way they were rolling their hips together meant that Bucky wasn’t going to last at all.

T’Challa began to nibble on his earlobe, occasionally whispering things in a language Bucky couldn’t understand as their bodies flowed in a unpracticed movements against each other. Bucky wanted to be good for T’Challa but the only thing he cared at the moment was to feel T’Challa close.

“Fuck, Challa, I’m not gonna last, I’ll… If you keep doing that I’ll--” Bucky moaned out, breath hitching as T’Challa spoke again.

“Let yourself go for me, James.” And he did, his climax hitting him like a shockwave, soiling his pants. As he came down from the high, he delighted in watching T’Challa fall apart on top of him, moans rising in pitch until he, too ruined a perfectly good pair of trousers. Bucky ran his hands up and down T’Challa’s back softly, gently, as if he wanted to tell T’Challa that he cared about him without speaking.

T’Challa stayed still on top of him for a couple seconds, breath heaving, calming down from the high, before rolling over to give Bucky some space. He was saying something, Bucky wanted to listen to him, to the soothing voice that gave him solace. In that moment, Bucky thought that he could fall in love with the guy. Maybe it was the orgasm talking, but everything about T’Challa was calming, and calm was something that Bucky hadn’t felt in a very long time. He drifted into a dreamless sleep.

 

* * *

 

Bucky woke up to the sound of people talking. Who was talking this early? In his room nonetheless.

 _T’Challa_.

“Challa…,” Bucky called. His eyes still closed. Body still snuggled against the pillow in his hold.

Someone— _T’Challa_ , Bucky thought—climbed the bed and gently caressed his hair.

“Wake up, Buck.”

 _Oh no_. Bucky would recognize that voice anywhere. It was Steve.

Bucky forced his eyes to open and was swept with a wave of content when he saw T’Challa’s face. Freshly cleaned and smelling nice, unlike him. He turned his attention to Steve who was looming over the both of them a few good steps away from the bed. _Oh shit_ , Steve could smell the sex? Clint always teased Stark about how his and Steve’s room smelled like sex.

“What the fuck, Steve. Get out,” Bucky said, trying to hide the apparent situation he knew he couldn’t.

“Sorry to break it to you, Buck. But this is my dorm room too so you can’t kick me out of my _own_ room.”

Bucky sat up, eyes wide open now. T’Challa was still sticking to his side. He ignored Steve for a moment to take T’Challa’s presence in. He was wearing the clothes he wore last night. He looked different to Bucky’s eyes, but maybe that was just the hormones in his brain talking. Bucky leaned up to kiss T’Challa. He couldn’t fathom that the man was still here, after… Oh no, Bucky fell _asleep_ on the guy, twice!

“Buck, come on. We have class at 9.30,” Steve reminded him.

Bucky furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. He was still looking at T’Challa. T’Challa, who hadn’t said a word since Bucky woke up. Was Bucky dreaming him? Was he dreaming last night?

“James, if you have class you must get ready. I will return to my own room,” T’Challa finally spoke. Oh, he didn’t dream him.

Bucky didn’t know what force drove him but the next thing he knew he was holding T’Challa’s arm tightly and _whined_. Oh God, he _whined_. What a loser. He was glad Stark wasn’t here, the guy would use that against him.

“James, it’s okay. We can see each other after class,” T’Challa comforted him.

Sighing, Bucky looked at Steve again. His best friend was dressed neatly in plaid shirts—the thing he always wore—and dark grey pants. Bucky groaned.

“It’s too early for anything.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Buck, it’s quarter past nine.”

“Oh, shit,”

“Yeah, Buck. _Shit_. Hurry up!”

T’Challa said goodbye and kissed him chastely on his lips before leaving the room. Bucky quickly got ready before Steve all but dragged him out to their respective classes.

Bucky saw Steve waiting for him in front of his classroom when his class was finished. The guy was folding his arms like he owned the place. Bucky rolled his eyes before approaching him.

“What, Steve?”

“You know what, Buck.”

They started walking to the benches in the middle of their campus yard. Steve’s steps were wide. Bucky wasn't really much shorter than Steve but the guy could make himself look bigger when he tried. Bucky knew his friend was doing it on purpose to let Bucky know that he was upset. Dating Stark had made Steve more authoritative than he was before because apparently Stark liked being bossed around. Bucky didn’t mind, he had always wanted Steve to be more confident and more aware of his strength instead of feeling small all the time, like he had when they were younger.

“Well then you know I’m not going to stay away from him, if he wants me, that is,” Bucky replied.

“I don’t need to remind you why this isn’t a good idea, right?”

“Well I did tell you that going after Howard Stark’s son weren’t a good idea but you did it anyway so I don’t think you get a say here, Steve.”

Steve stopped. He took a deep breath like he was trying to control his anger.

“Buck, I thought I had lost you in that accident. I can’t lose you again. Zemo is going to…hurt you badly when he finds out.”

Bucky was the one who was trying to control his anger now. _How dare Steve?_

“Steve, you know you can’t control _everything_ , right? You’re controlling Stark’s decisions and now you’re trying to control mine, too? Look, I don’t care about what you do with Stark, okay? Because I know as long as he has his toys, robots and your dick he doesn’t care about the rest. But I’m not okay, Steve! Just because you’re my oldest friend doesn’t mean that my world revolves around you!”

Bucky’s chest was heaving. He knew he was getting the attention of the people around them. He was angry. He hated always being under Steve’s shadow. He wanted his own life. He would lie down his _life_ for Steve if it would ever come to that. He would follow Steve to _war_. Because he knew Steve would do the same. But this was his personal life. He was _jealous_. Because Steve was happy and it wasn’t with him, and when Bucky wanted to be happy with someone who wasn’t Steve, the guy tried to stop him like he owned Bucky’s neck.

“I don’t control Tony’s decision. I’m not trying to control yours, Buck!” Steve snapped back.

Bucky scoffed. “Keep telling yourself that, _Stevie._ ”

With that, he stomped away from Steve heading to the direction towards Sam’s classroom. He checked the time. Sam would also already finish his class by now. Sam’s faculty was quite far from his and Steve’s, meaning he needed to hurry up before Sam’s next class started. Bucky quickened his steps. To be quite honest, he didn’t know Sam’s schedule. The only schedules he knew was his own and Steve’s, mainly because their classes are on the same building. He could still hear Steve called his name, but he knew that Steve knew to leave him alone because his best friend wasn’t following him.

Sam was walking with Wanda and Vision when Bucky spotted him.

“Sam!” He called out.

Sam’s head turned to his direction and his face lit up.

“Yo, Bucknasty! What brought you here man?” Sam said, approaching Bucky. Wanda and Vision followed closely.

“Trouble with Captain Rogers?” Vision supplied.

Bucky rolled his eyes. Vision’s formality was not something he could deal with right now.

“What are you doing here, Vision?” Bucky asked flatly.

“I was going to take Wanda to lunch out of campus. Wanda was with Sam when I saw her.”

“Do you want to come, Bucky?” the Slovakian girl asked. Bucky felt really sorry for Vision, the guy had been trying to get with Wanda for as long as he could remember. The results of his advances varied, but rarely succeeded. Bucky didn’t know if Wanda was really that oblivious or if she was letting Vision down easy. He should help the guy out, he thought.

Bucky shook his head. “Nah, I’m alright, Wanda. Actually, Sam and I have something to do.”

“We do?” Sam asked. _Totally unhelpful, Birdbrain_.

“We do! You said you were going to tell me what you think of my new writing!”

Sam’s eyes flickered as he figured out what Bucky was doing. “Oh, that’s right! Yeah, you were gonna show me your draft, man.”

Bucky nodded excitedly.

“Do you want us to read it too? More opinions, maybe?” Wanda asked again.

“Nah, you should go get lunch with Vis. I’ll show you guys some other time? The deadline is still quite far ahead.”

Wanda nodded and started walking away. Vision looked at him and nodded once showing that he was grateful.

Once the two of them were out of sight, Sam spoke, “Okay, seriously. Why are you here? _Trouble with Captain Rogers?_ ”

“Yeah,” Bucky said. “Let’s find a place to sit.”

“I’m actually drained from that class. Damn, my professor really knows how to work someone up.”

Bucky nodded. “Let’s go to that diner across your building.”

Sam agreed. They walked to the joking around and talking about anything else beside Bucky’s _situation_. It was a blessing for Bucky that Sam didn’t mention T’Challa. He knew that his friend knew the whole situation had something to do with T’Challa. Well, Sam knew that Steve had been overattentive in his ultimatums against engaging anything more than friendship with T’Challa.

Sam told him about a new good looking junior named Gamora. He rambled about how she was rumored to be the daughter of the mob boss and that her boyfriend was an annoying overexcited jackass. Sam was such a gossip. Bucky himself could be a gossip too at times, but not to the extent of knowing about some junior, her supposedly scary father and her annoying boyfriend. A brief thought crossed through his mind to not tell Sam about his _situation_ because of the aforementioned reason. But he trusted that Sam knew when he should keep a secret and when he shouldn’t.

The diner they arrived in was like any other diner affordable for broke college students. Grimes and molds were visible at some corners, but the tables, chairs and the kitchen looked clean enough, at least from where he was standing. Lang worked the evening shift at the diner after Baskin Robbins found out about his criminal record. The guy was really annoying, almost as annoying as Stark but he was helpful last semester when Steve and Stark had a massive fight that actually got everyone to hate each other for three months. Bucky briefly wondered if T’Challa would take Steve’s side or Stark’s side if he had been their friends then. He would probably be their middle ground. T’Challa was the kind of person who would always see everyone’s good side. _Goddammit_ , he was already half in love with the guy.

Sam found them a table and ordered them their usual. He told Bucky about his lessons and assignments and Bucky only nodded when necessary, wasn’t really listening to whatever words came out of Sam’s mouth. Sam sensed that it was probably time to talk about his situation.

“Buck,” Sam called.

Bucky looked up and looked at Sam. “Hm?”

“So what were you gonna tell me, man?”

He, then, told Sam what happened since last night. The whole shebang with T’Challa and Steve’s reaction to it.

“That’s fucked up, man. I know Steve was overprotective of you, but that’s just something else. But, playing devil’s advocate here, Buck, you know he’s actually being quite logical, right?”

Bucky nodded. “I know he’s just trying to look out for me, Sam. But I can’t deal with this.”

Sam was about to say something when the waitress came with their order. If anything could shut Sam up, it was food. He excitedly dug in and munched the much needed calories after being drained with exercises from his professor. Contrary to popular belief, college was actually very, very tiring.

“I guess you’re in the position Steve was in when he realized he wanted to be more than best friends with Tony. Oh, and like last semester when he actually fought tooth and nail against Tony for letting you to stay in their house for _months_ , ya know, to save you from Zemo’s wrath,” Sam spoke up suddenly, mouthful of fries. Bucky rolled his eyes at his behaviour but actually considering his words.

“What does that mean?” Bucky asked, poking lazily at his beans.

“You gotta choose, Buck.”

“He’s chosen Stark all the time since he knew him,” Bucky was now quite angry.

Sam sighed and put his utensils down. “That’s not true and you know it, Buck. I just mentioned the time he fought tooth and nail against Tony because he chose you, Buck.”

Bucky never thought about it that way. He had always thought that he was always Steve’s second option in everything, but Sam’s words made him think twice. He was too jealous of Steve and Stark’s relationship that he actually couldn’t see that Steve was always ready to save him when it came to that.

“I don’t know how to feel, Sam. I’ve never… I’m scared too you know, scared of Zemo and what he’s gonna do when he finds out.”

Suddenly, Bucky’s phone lit up. He checked it and it was T’Challa texting him. He didn’t even know T’Challa had punched his number into Bucky’s phone. He should put a password, but it was T’Challa so he didn’t mind.

_Where are you?_

Bucky texted back quickly with the diner they were at. T’Challa replied not long after.

_Can I go to you?_

Bucky shortly replied, agreeing to T’Challa coming. He missed him already. He was being ridiculously cringy. It hadn’t even been a day.

“T’Challa’s coming,” Bucky told Sam.

Sam hummed and nodded, still munching on his food and slurping on his chocolate milkshake.

“But what do you think of T’Challa, though?”

“The dude’s cool. He’s polite, responsible. Don’t know what you did in your past life to deserve that kind of guy.”

Bucky frowned. He knew Sam was joking but T’Challa was perfect, in almost every way, and a prince too. While he was just a kid from Brooklyn, always living under his best friend’s shadow. It was a miracle that T’Challa actually noticed him.

“You’re overthinking, aren’t you?”

Bucky didn’t answer.

“You’re a great guy, Buck. You deserve someone nice. Also you gotta settle your problem with Steve.”

“I know, Sam. I’ll talk to him, just not today.”

“Just don’t take too long, man.”

Bucky agreed. He would talk to Steve about him and T’Challa, just not anytime soon. He would avoid the perfect American and his perfect boyfriend for a while.

 

* * *

 

Bucky spent his days going to classes, avoiding Steve and Stark, and making out with T’Challa in his room before finishing his assignments in the evening. Avoiding Steve and Stark meaning avoiding Avengers Initiative, and staying the fuck away from all club activities. T'Challa had asked him about it. Bucky only shrugged and mentioned his problem with Steve to T'Challa. T'Challa told him that he would help Bucky when Bucky asked him to, Bucky kissed him hard for that and harder when T'Challa never brought it up again. The only people he talked to was T’Challa, Sam and the people necessary for the continuity of his education.

It was Saturday afternoon and T’Challa was standing in Bucky’s doorway in a dark plaid shirt and light washed up jeans. He was looking very handsome and all Bucky wanted to do was kiss him. T’Challa made the decision for him, taking a few small steps closer to plant a soft kiss on Bucky’s lips.

“Hello, James,” T’Challa greeted.

Bucky smiled at him. “Hey, Challa.” He wrapped his arms around T’Challa’s shoulders to hold him close. Bucky loved being close to T’Challa and the feeling that came with it.

“Can I take you somewhere today?” T’Challa asked him. His eyes hopeful and full of affection.

“Where?”

“The beach.”

“You wanna take me to the beach?”

T’Challa chuckled. “Unless you do not want to go to the beach. We can find somewhere else to go.”

“No, I… I’d love to go to the beach. How are we gonna get there?”

“I was thinking to go by bus but we can take the train if you wish to. I am sorry I do not have a car here.”

Bucky laughed before kissing T’Challa’s cheek shortly. “I don’t care about that, you know. You could be homeless and I would still want to date you.”

“That is such a relief to hear, James.”

They ended up taking the train to the beach. The train wasn’t very full but they weren’t sitting down, only standing closely to each other. Easy conversations were shared, flowing effortlessly between them and Bucky loved every second of it.

The beach wasn’t full either. Bucky suspected that T’Challa knew Bucky didn’t really like the crowd. He used to be alright with the crowd when he was younger, before the accident that took away his parents, his arm and his peace happened. When Steve was still his best friends that treated him like best friends did and not like he was a small, incapable child who should always be under his surveillance.

The sudden weight of T’Challa’s hand on his brought him back to reality. The reality he never expected, but was currently living anyway.

“What are you thinking, my sweet?”

“The good old days,” Bucky answered absentmindedly. “Before I lost my arm.”

T’Challa led him to sit on a spot close to the short waves painting the sand darker. Bucky followed him and rested his head on T’Challa’s shoulder, comfortably settling against each other.

“Do you want to tell me?” T’Challa asked. His voice was laced by the usual soothing lilt that could lull Bucky into a calming sleep that he usually lacked before T’Challa’s presence.

“What’s there to tell, Challa?”

T’Challa kissed the crown of his head. “Anything that you want to tell me. Anything that you feel you need to tell me. I will always be here for you, James.”

Bucky smiled. He watched the seagulls playing against the small bubbly waves and the feel of light wind on his face as he rested his worries against T’Challa’s shoulder. The feeling made him realise that Sam was right and it was the time for him to choose.

“Challa,” Bucky started.

“Yes, my sweet.”

“Can I take you somewhere after this?”

“And where would that be?”

“Steve and Tony’s house. I need to… I need to settle things with Steve.”

“Of course, James,” T’Challa answered with a smile before kissing Bucky fully in the lips.

 

* * *

 

Stark was the one who opened the door when Bucky knocked. His expression showed his surprise in seeing him and T’Challa.

“Oh, Barnes.”

“Is Steve home?” Bucky asked. T’Challa’s hand squeezed his briefly giving him the much needed support.

“Yeah, he’s just making dinner. I’ll let him know that you…” Stark paused, looking shortly at T’Challa. “…and His Highness are here.”

“Awesome. Thanks, Stark.”

“Get in, Bucky, T’Challa,” Stark welcomed them inside and telling them to make themselves at home. Bucky was quite nervous if he were honest. He felt the fear of rejection like every time he went back from doing Zemo’s chore and wait for Zemo to assess his being, whether or not he had been doing it right.

Steve entered the living room with Stark on his side. He knew Steve needed Stark’s support just as much as he needed T’Challa’s at this moment. He thought about this at night before he slept, he thought this wasn’t a big deal, earning Steve’s approval of his relationship, but then it was Steve and it made it a big deal.

“Buck, T’Challa,” Steve greeted before sitting across Bucky and T’Challa, Stark followed to sit beside him before taking out his phone to fiddle with it. Classic Stark.

“I’d like to settle the rift on our friendship,” Bucky started.

Steve nodded but didn’t say anything, waiting for him to finish.

“I’m sorry for acting out the way I did when you reminded me why I shouldn’t do this relationship, but Steve I… I’m glad I found T’Challa and I know that you’ve been great to me and all and I know that our friends are always ready to support me, at least that’s what they said, but I like T’Challa and I want to spend time with him and I want a chance to have what you have with Stark,” Bucky explained. His heart pounding loudly in his chest as the truth spilled out of his mouth like a fountain. He looked around. Steve’s eyebrows were furrowed, Stark was still staring at the screen of his phone but he seemed unfocused, and T’Challa had his arm around him, giving him a sense of security. “and since you’re the only one that I consider family right now, I would like you to support me being with T’Challa.”

Steve’s expression shifted from serious to a surprise, as if he didn’t expect Bucky to ask for his permission to be with T’Challa.

“I also know that normally it would be T’Challa asking your permission but I know your problem isn’t with him because you know that he’s a good person and he won’t hurt me in the stupid conventional ways people hurt each other in relationships, so I’m asking this for both T’Challa and I,” Bucky continued.

Steve took his time to process Bucky’s words. Stark was growing concerned because he put his phone down and reached out for Steve. Steve briefly ensured Stark that he was okay before speaking up.

“Buck, I never restrict you to do anything. I want you to be happy and I am sorry that sometimes I thought you being happy would always require me in the picture. I’m sorry for that, because I know we’re best friends and we would always be there for each other. On the other hand, you do know why I am concerned and I hope you’ll think of that. I know T’Challa is a great person and that he’s good for you, so even though I don’t know why you’re here asking my permission because there’s really no need, I approve, Buck. I always do.”

When Steve finished his sentence, Bucky felt a tremendous sense of relief washed over him. He hugged T’Challa tightly. T’Challa whispered praises in his ears and Bucky couldn’t be happier at the moment.

“Would you two like to stay for dinner then?” Steve asked.

Bucky looked at T’Challa, and at his boyfriend’s nod, Bucky accepted Steve’s invitation.

 

* * *

 

“I’m glad you were there with me, Challa,” Bucky said, nuzzling against T’Challa’s neck as they stood in front of Bucky’s dorm building. T’Challa leaned down for a short deep kiss which Bucky gladly accepted.

“I think you’re a great, wonderful person too, James. I never thought that I could get your attention.”

“Are you kidding me? You’re a prince! I’m the lucky one.”

“Sometimes I wish I am not.”

Bucky dropped his grin. “I told you even if you were homeless I would still be with you, right?”

T’Challa smiled. “Will you let me stay the night, James?”

“Of course, my prince,”

They could barely keep their hands off of each other on the way to Bucky’s room. Bucky stumbled clumsily against his bed when he felt the back of his knees touched the side of it. T’Challa’s kisses were so distracting. He let himself fall back and brought T’Challa down on top of him.

“Would you let me do something different tonight, James?”

“Anything,” Bucky replied. “I’ll let you know if I feel uncomfortable.”

Bucky let his head fall back while keeping one of his hands on T’Challa’s shoulder and the other one resting against the mattress, and then, “good boy.” Bucky felt his cock grew hard in his pants at the praise and bit down on the small whine that threatens to escape his throat. He was wired with nervous energy, his body thrumming with it.

T’Challa moved to straddle him properly and Bucky couldn’t bring himself to do anything but watch as T’Challa took his wrists and moved them until his hands were resting on the pillow at the top of the bed. Bucky had a great view of T’Challa’ mouth like this and hesitantly, hoping he wasn’t about to make a fool of himself, lifted his head up, asking for a kiss.

T’Challa obliged hungrily, claiming Bucky’s mouth bruisingly, biting down before pushing his tongue inside and pulling a moan from Bucky in return. T’Challa’ mouth, like Bucky always imagined and like how they tasted at the party, tasted good and Bucky reveled in the way T’Challa’ tongue started to explore every inch of his own mouth, taking his time, softening the kiss like this is something that mattered to him, something he was getting as much as a head-rush from as Bucky did.

“How was that?” T’Challa asked, pulling back. Bucky looked up at him dazed, not sure how to answer. Not sure if he remembered how to form words.

“It was good,” Bucky finally managed to get out, torn between feeling upset and lucky that T’Challa was only focused on making this good for him, and not himself. Bucky was grateful that he was doing this with T’Challa and not anyone else. There was no one else in the world, right now, who he would let to even be _this close_ to him.

“I want you to tell me if you’re feeling uncomfortable in any way, okay?” T’Challa said, planting a soft kiss on his jaw. “Can you do that for me, James?”

Bucky nodded, feeling himself relax at the command. It was reassuring and comforting, and _familiar_. Bucky hated the feeling of familiarity, but he knew he would start there. He knew T’Challa wasn’t Zemo and that T’Challa would never do something that Bucky didn’t want. The amount of trust Bucky was giving him at the moment was scary.

T’Challa grinned, a grin that promised Bucky didn’t know what, and began to slide down Bucky’s body, kissing him through the shirt in random places as he went. Bucky wished that he hadn’t let his insecurity got the best of him because he wanted to feel T’Challa’s lips on his skin. But that could be saved for another time, T’Challa would want to stay for a long time, right?

Bucky’s eyes fluttered closed at the action, his breathing becoming heavier. He tried to stop the trembling, the way every cell in his body was attempting to shake loose, but when T’Challa’ lips reached just below his navel it was too much and Bucky’s hips bucked up embarrassingly, over-excited. He felt every bit the virgin he is, but T’Challa didn’t seem to care, kissing that exact same spot once more, nipping at it experimentally with his teeth and making encouraging sounds as Bucky’s traitorous hips bucked up again.

“Oh Bast, look at you,” he said, as he traveled back up to look Bucky in the eyes and kept their noses close, blowing hot breath across Bucky’s face. “Do you even know what you look like, James?” Bucky swallowed and shook his head. He never tried to take much notice of himself. The longest he ever looks in a mirror was to shave and even then he never focused on anything but the white foam on his face. He was not perfect, like T’Challa, all long limbs and toned muscle. Bucky always felt like he should hide most of the time. The baggy long-sleeved shirts, hoodies and jackets always made him feel more secure. But right now, he was only in his thin shirt he had worn under the leather jacket he wore before shedding them off when welcoming T’Challa inside his dorm room.

“I believe you do not,” T’Challa said, shaking his head sadly. Bucky didn’t get time to process it because the next thing he knew was there were two hands at the waistband of his jeans, pulling down the fabric along with his boxers. T’Challa left them sitting half-way down his thighs, restricting his movements even further.

Bucky felt exposed like this, especially while T’Challa was still fully wrapped in his clothes and the way he was looking at him was lightly tapping into Bucky’s insecurity. Bucky was tempted to move his hands, to cover himself up, but then he remembered his promise and settled for shifting uncomfortably instead. He was fully hard now, steadily dripping pre-come onto his stomach, wishing for T’Challa to just  _do_ something and stop staring.

“You’ve never gone this far before,” T’Challa says, sitting back to straddle Bucky’s legs. He sounded concerned, a lilt of worry in his husky voice.

Oh no.

“Sorry,” Bucky said, looking up towards his hands, how they were already clutching at the pillowcase. “I should have told you before we started.” Bucky knew his words were biting. Virgins were too much effort, or at least it was what he heard from the boys at Stark’s parties. T’Challa was a prince, he surely wouldn’t want to be disturbed by the repercussions of popping Bucky’s cherry. Or would that be a prized honor to him? Bucky couldn’t tell, he just didn’t want to upset T’Challa.

T’Challa made a confused noise. He pulled back and let the hand that was hovering above Bucky’s neck fall to the side.

“Why?”

“You can leave now,” Bucky mumbled, trying to ignore the way his heart felt like it was fucking  _breaking_ as he attempted to sit up, but T’Challa was right back on top of him again, pinning his hands above him.

“Did I say anything about leaving?” he said. His voice was authoritative and made Bucky’s cock jump, but his eyes are soft, questioning, and Bucky knew T’Challa was wondering whether Bucky still wanted to do this, if he really did want him to leave.

He looked almost sad and even though Bucky knew he was imagining it, he couldn’t resist lifting his head up to kiss T’Challa’ lips. He couldn’t do much, couldn’t get beyond the lightest of touches, couldn’t trust his body, but it was enough, and suddenly T’Challa was kissing him properly, his tongue was diving inside once more, massaging his own as T’Challa worked a hand between them, caressing until his fingers reach Bucky’s cock.

Bucky let out a gasp at the contact and T’Challa bit down on his lip, drawing a pathetic sound out of him. T’Challa seemed to like that, however, stroking Bucky more firmly and biting down again, harder this time. Bucky didn’t know T’Challa’s eyes could turn any darker, but it was evident as he stared into them.

“I need to get my mouth on you now, if that is okay with you, James,” T’Challa whispered, giving Bucky one last kiss. It was chaste and sweet and Bucky thought that he was really lucky to have experience this with T’Challa. Bucky nodded, he didn’t trust his voice.

T’Challa took his time, trailing his mouth down Bucky’s chest, teasing his nipples through the shirt. Bucky had never thought of touching his nipples before, never something he associated with making him feel good, but T’Challa’ mouth latching on to one, nipping gently and wetting Bucky’s shirt with his saliva, while a hand played with the other, tweaking and pulling, made Bucky’s head cloud over with need.

“The sounds you make,” T’Challa groaned. “James, you’re driving me insane right now.”

Bucky felt himself blush again just as T’Challa lowered his head. He could feel T’Challa’s tongue hovering above his cock, the moist heat of his breath causing his legs to shake.

“James,” T’Challa whispered. “I haven’t even really  _touched_ you yet and look at you.” He traced a hand through the pre-come coating Bucky’s navel and brought it to his lips, sucking on each finger without show, eyes fluttering shut _._

“Such a good boy for me,” he praised, bringing his own hands to rest on each of Bucky’s hips, keeping them in place when Bucky tried to seek friction, humping the air.

“I can’t believe no one’s touched you before,” he said, licking a stripe up the underside of Bucky’s cock, bringing a strangled noise to Bucky’s lips.

And then _finally_ , T’Challa’s wrapped his mouth around him. Bucky knew he wouldn’t last long, this being his first blowjob and everything. The air around them was thick and a little suffocating from the heat, but Bucky was sweating not for that reason. He clutched at T’Challa’s shoulder like he could drown or fall if he let go.

“Challa…,” Bucky whispered in a wrecked voice. Oh _God_ , he sounded like a pathetic bitch in heat, but he was. At this moment, he truly _was_ a pathetic bitch in heat. But he was T’Challa’s bitch, even if it was only his mind, so he didn’t mind.

The coiling pleasure that was brewing low in his stomach was rising rapidly, Bucky was clutching harder at T’Challa’s shoulder, something he didn’t know was even possible at this point. He came with T’Challa’s name flowing repeatedly from his lips like he was chanting for his prince. He _was_ chanting for his prince.

T’Challa let go of his cock and moved up to plant a hungry kiss on Bucky’s mouth. Bucky gladly kissed back, trying to pour as much fervor as he could into it, but he was tired. His eyes were heavy. His hands grabbed weakly at T’Challa’s sides, before his good one traveled down to T’Challa’s crotch.

“Want to touch you too, Challa,” Bucky said drowsily. He could not fall asleep on T’Challa this time, so he reached out to T’Challa and quickly unzipped the prince’s trousers, taking his cock out from his underwear. He marveled a little bit and the shape and size before licking up his palm and quickly jerked him off.

T’Challa let out a choked groan before nibbling on Bucky’s earlobe, his hot breath ghosting against the side of Bucky’s neck. It didn’t take long before T’Challa came with a choked off _James_ against Bucky’s lips. Bucky brought up his hand that was coated by T’Challa’s come and licked it clean.

“Dear Lord, you’re…” T’Challa trailed off before kissing him roughly. Bucky could get used to this.

 

* * *

 

T’Challa wasn’t there when Bucky woke up. He freaked out a little before reaching for his phone and found T’Challa’s text telling him he had to go get some stuff from his dorm. Bucky texted back telling him he needed to get a coffee and that he would meet T’Challa shortly after at T’Challa’s dorm.

Bucky quickly got dressed and made himself half presentable. He thought he should take a shower but maybe later, he really needed that coffee right now, after the whole chains of events from yesterday.

The door of the coffee shop rang the bell when Bucky left, piping hot coffee in his hand, only to fall close to his feet. He was lucky it didn’t burn him, but a burn injury was the least of his concern at that moment because…

“Bucky, it’s good to see you.”

It was Zemo, standing in front of him with a smile on his face. Bucky felt the peace and happiness he was feeling not long ago sucked out of him. This could not be good.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow, I've never written a chapter this long before. Oh well.  
> This chapter is mostly about Bucky's conflict about his heavy friendship with Steve and wanting to be with T'Challa. Also the person I hate the most is coming up next chapter!
> 
> Don't forget to leave kudos and comments! I appreciate all of them, all of you! Feedbacks are amazing :D
> 
> 21bangsfangirl.


	3. Love Me Even If It Rain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!
> 
> this chapter contains mentions of abuse and slight racism.

Love Me Even If It Rain

* * *

* * *

 

 

“ _Barnes’ phone. Not here at the moment. You can text or whatever._ ”

T’Challa gripped his phone angrily. He’d been trying to call Bucky for a few times now. His boyfriend didn’t show up at his dorm like he said he would earlier. T’Challa wasn’t possessive. The reason he freaked out because it was already 6 p.m. and there was still no sign of Bucky. He tried looking for Bucky at the places he usually hung out at. He tried Bucky’s faculty, went through almost all the classrooms like a creep. He went to the diner across Sam’s building where Bucky and Sam usually hung out at. He looked for him at his dorm but he wasn’t there too.

 _He probably has classes and forgot to tell me that he wasn’t able to see me_ , T’Challa had thought. But it had been _hours_ and T’Challa was beginning to worry. He hadn’t called Bucky’s friends because he didn’t think the situation would turn this serious. Bucky never disappeared on him since the three months he knew him and since the few weeks of their relationship Bucky only got closer and T’Challa was very alright with that. He would think he knew how Bucky was but then he realized he didn’t actually know him that well, _yet_ , at least. T’Challa didn’t know what to do. He was actually quite afraid of what Steve were going to say if T’Challa told him.

 

* * *

 

“T’Challa, can I talk to you for a second?” Steve asked him last night at Steve and Tony’s house when Bucky went to the bathroom.

T’Challa nodded firmly. He knew what Steve was doing. _What do the people call it? Oh right,_ shovel talk.

“Can I help you, Steve?” T'Challa asked in a calm tone.

Steve smiled at him. “I know I said I approve your relationship with Bucky, I also know that you’re the prince of Wakanda, but I truly won’t hesitate to hurt you, physically and emotionally, if anything bad were to happen to my best friend.”

“I don’t plan to let anything bad happen to James, Steve.”

Steve sighed. “I know you don’t, but… Bucky… He is… troubled.”

“Perhaps you could help me understand, Steve.”

“He hasn’t told you then.”

T’Challa tilted his head, silently urging Steve to continue.

“Trust me, T’Challa. I really want to help, but it really isn’t my place. If Bucky didn’t want to tell you then I intend to respect his decision.”

T’Challa looked away from Steve. Deep down, he craved the amount of trust and familiarity that Bucky had with Steve. But the two grew up together. He would never be able to understand. He only wished that Bucky would come around to at least let him in because T’Challa really wanted to be there for Bucky.

Steve must have sensed his distress because the guy clapped his hands on T’Challa shoulders. When T’Challa looked at him, Steve was looking at him apologetically.

“I hope he’ll tell you soon,” Steve said before continuing lowly “…before something bad happens.”

 

* * *

 

T’Challa sighed. Steve only told him last night and now Bucky could not be contacted. T’Challa felt like slamming his fists on a table, any table would work honestly. He didn’t look for a table to slam on though, instead he scrolled down the contacts list in his phone and called Sam.

“ _Your Highness!_ ” Sam chimed from the other side of the line.

“Sam, is James with you?”

“ _What? No. Why? Is he not with you?_ ”

“Well, no, that’s why I asked. Have you seen him at all today?”

“ _No, man. I didn’t see him today. Oh God, don’t tell me he’s gone, T’Challa._ ”

“I don’t know, Sam. He disappeared on me this morning.” T’Challa then told Sam the chronology of the situation from the morning.

“ _Oh man, that’s not good, T’Challa. Have you called Steve?_ ”

“Not yet actually,” T’Challa swallowed. “Has he done this before, Sam?”

“ _No! Bucky never disappeared in the middle of the semester. He’s usually out of reach during the breaks,_ ” Sam paused for a few seconds. It seemed like he finally connected the dots and understood the situation. “ _No. No, no, no, no, no. Shit. T’Challa, where are you now?_ ”

“I’m in front of James’ dorm building, waiting in case he comes home. Why?”

T’Challa heard shuffling from the other side of the line, followed by some clinking and thudding sounds. “ _Just… Stay there. I’ll come to you then we’ll go to Steve. Can you call or text Tony to ask where Steve is? We don’t want to worry Steve before we get there._ ”

Sam’s sudden worry and urgency triggered T’Challa’s worry. _Is something bad happening to James?_

“Ah, okay. I’ll contact Tony.”

“ _Right. Just stay put, Your Highness._ ”

With that T’Challa disconnected the call with Sam and quickly dialed Tony’s phone. It took a while for Tony to answer but T’Challa wasted no time in asking where Steve was. Tony told him that Steve still had a night class and that he would come home in half an hour. T’Challa thanked him and said that he and Sam would come to their house soon. Tony accepted and told them to just come in when they arrive because he was down at his workshop working on some project to bring to the upcoming convention. T’Challa thanked him and hung up.

T’Challa’s mind raced with worry and paranoia as he waited for Sam’s arrival while sitting on the bench in front of Bucky’s building. The sun had already set and the lights from the street lamps illuminated the night dimly, adding more gloomy feeling to his already heavy mood. His phone was clutched on one hand while the other hand fidgeted on his thighs, a nervous antic he was told to get rid of before he became King of Wakanda.

Sam arrived not long after he hung up Tony’s call but it felt like hours because he was really worried about Bucky. He felt helpless because he really wanted to find Bucky but he didn’t know what to do and where to start.

“T’Challa!” Sam shouted as he dropped down from the campus bus. “Come on! We have to go.”

They took the train to Steve and Tony’s house. T’Challa wanted to ask Sam about what he knew but Sam was quiet, unlike his usual easygoing self. He supposed everything would be explained once they met with Steve so he opted to patiently wait for a few minutes, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling flipping around inside his chest.

When they arrived at Steve and Tony’s house, they straight away went inside just as Tony told him. The door wasn’t locked. It seemed like Tony turned off the lock when they arrived. There was no one around when T’Challa went inside. The speakers—T’Challa didn’t know where they were exactly—crackled lightly before Tony’s voice boomed.

“Hey, guys. Do you mind to wait a bit? Steve’s gonna be here in a few moment, I’ll come up to see you in a bit. Just don’t touch anything that you don’t understand. I’m talking to you, Wilson.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Shut up, Stark.”

Tony emerged a few minutes after and offered them something to eat or drink. Sam asked for a can of beer but T’Challa felt sick. He probably would end up throwing up if he tried to put anything in his body.

_Oh Bast, what is happening with Bucky?_

The fact that he didn’t know anything or have any idea of what was happening was killing him. He wished Steve would come home any second now. And then Steve walked into the house, as if the universe heard his thoughts and prayers and decided to grant them. Quickly, T’Challa jolted up to his feet.

“Steve, do you know where Bucky is?”

Steve, who was at ease and looked as if he was ready to turn in for the night, took a few large steps from the door to approach T’Challa, Tony and Sam. His shock and worry were apparent on his facial features. Tony stepped closer to his boyfriend to put his arm around his waist.

“No,” Steve answered. “No, I haven’t seen him at all today. T’Challa, what happened? He’s not with you?”

T’Challa shook his head and told Steve how Bucky seemed to disappear that morning up until that moment.

“Steve, I don’t know, man. We’ve been trying to reach to him, no luck. Do you think--,” Sam spoke up.

Steve shook his head frantically before pulling Tony closer to his side. “No, Sam. It’s in the middle of the semester, why would Bucky be with him?”

T’Challa was confused. He didn’t have any idea of what everyone was talking about. It must have had shown on his face because then Tony said, “Hey, I think we need to fill T’Challa in on what’s going on. The guy is really confused, look at him.”

“But, Tony--,” Steve tried to refuse but Tony shook his head at him.

“Steve, if it is what’s happening with Barnes then T’Challa deserves to know. I know you wanna keep Barnes’ secret because bro code or whatever but seriously, Steve, he deserves to know what happens to his boyfriend.”

Steve took a deep breath before looking shortly at Sam. Sam nodded curtly in return.

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

The sun was low on the west. Steve was walking towards Bucky’s house with the cake from his mom in one hand and Tamara’s—their classmate—13th birthday invitation in the other. The two of them—Steve and Bucky—recently got into junior high school together and Tamara was one of the people in their class.

This was actually the first time Steve went to Bucky’s house after the train accident four months ago that took Bucky’s parents and left away. They were traveling back to Brooklyn from his mother’s hometown for the Christmas and New Year, when the unfortunate thing happened. Steve had watched the news with his mom when it happened. The news said the accident happened because of engine problem or something, Steve didn’t really understand.

They visited Bucky in the hospital after the accident. Steve remembered how sad and grim Bucky looked on the hospital bed. He tried cheering Bucky up with cool hero stories that Bucky always loved. He brought books and comics so Bucky could read, but Bucky only looked at him with sad eyes and told him, “I don’t think I can hold books anymore, Stevie.”

Fortunately, Bucky’s mother’s distant stepbrother, Helmut Zemo, the only known relative of Bucky, agreed to take care of Bucky after the passing of his parents. Bucky’s face had lit up and his eyes looked a little alive when he heard the news. Steve was happy for him, at least he wouldn’t be alone or not alone but living with strangers in an improper foster home somewhere.

The sounds of yelling were not something Steve had expected when he arrived in front of Bucky’s house. He was unsure whether or not to approach the front door and knock. It wasn’t long until Bucky was shoved outside. His hair was strewn all over on his head. Steve could see tear marks on his eyes and a fading purplish hue on his right cheek. His best friend was carrying a large bag while nursing his left shoulder where his new prosthetic arm was attached.

“Steve?!” Bucky looked really shocked to see Steve standing there. Steve didn’t say anything, only stared gapingly at Bucky. His best friend looked wrecked. He never saw Bucky like that, and that was surprising to him because they went to school together and Steve saw Bucky almost every day. It should be impossible for him to not know that his best friend had been messed up. Was he not paying attention?

“What are you doing here?”

Steve blinked, “What happened to you? Where are you going?”

Bucky shrugged and started walking away. Steve followed closely behind him. Bucky was never quiet, he never ignored a question. Steve was the quiet one, never Bucky.

“Buck, please. Tell me,” Steve pressed on.

Bucky kept on walking. He was taller than Steve so it took Steve quite the effort to catch up with Bucky, also his asthma really didn’t help.

“Just don’t come to our house ever again.”

Steve was taken aback. _Did Bucky just forbid me to ever go to his house again?_ He looked down at his hands and was suddenly reminded the purpose of his visit to Bucky’s house. He called out to Bucky but his best friend didn’t turn back. Steve sighed and walked back home.

 

* * *

 

They were fifteen when Bucky barged into Steve’s house all wet and crying. Outside, the rain was pouring heavily and the occassional crackling of thunder made Steve shudder. Steve could see the bruises on his face again. They never talked about the incident in front of Bucky’s house when they were thirteen. They still hung out sometimes and spend time at school, and Bucky didn’t seem to look any different except for the fact that he started growing his hair longer than he ever did before. Steve wanted to question, like any other friends do when their best friend had a change of style but he didn’t because deep down he knew why Bucky did it. On some days when they were at school, Steve could see traces of blackish patches on Bucky’s face but he would just look down and his hair would cover his face.

“Steve, I’m sorry. I don’t know where else to go,” Bucky cried, furiously wiping at his nose. Steve nodded, allowed Bucky in and called his mom.

That day was the day when Steve knew that Zemo had been mistreating Bucky. Steve asked him why he didn’t run away. Bucky shook his head, telling Steve that Zemo paid for everything, including his education and medical bills to take care of his arm. Also, Bucky didn’t want to leave his parent’s house. “I can’t go. I love that house, I don’t want that fucker to have it,” Bucky had told him.

Steve nodded and patted Bucky’s back lightly as his mother brought him a soup.

“Steve, you gotta promise me.”

Steve hummed in return.

“Just don’t…don’t ever tell anyone unless I’m the one who does. Don’t talk about it to anyone.”

“Not to anyone? What about to the school when they are looking for you when you’re absent?”

Bucky shook his head.

“Your girlfriend if she looks for you?”

Bucky turned and glared at Steve. He grinned.

“I don’t have a girlfriend, Steve.”

“Hey, I don’t know, Buck. In the future, maybe.”

“No, Steve. Not to anyone. Not even my future girlfriend.”

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

T’Challa looked at Steve in shock after Steve finished telling him about what’s going on with Bucky. The feelings in his chest for Bucky rocketed, added with a large amount of awe and respect for the person he cared about.

“I think it might have something to do with that fuck excuse of an uncle of his, T’Challa,” Sam said.

“Then we must go,” T’Challa stated.

“T’Challa we can’t! We would be breaking the law, Zemo could have us arrested for kidnapping,” Steve interjected.

“He is of age. It’s not ‘kid’napping, Steve.” T’Challa sighed. “I know, Steve. We also don’t have enough evidence to take him in for abuse.”

Everyone was quiet for a long stretch of moment.

“There’s no possibility of Barnes just chilling somewhere and want to get away from the crowd?” Tony broke the silence.

“I don’t know, Tony. Let’s just hope he’s okay,” Steve replied.

Sam and T’Challa left Steve and Tony’s house after that. They decided there was nothing they could do for the time being. Steve also said that Bucky and his uncle moved away from Bucky’s parent’s house because the house didn’t pass inspection and was deemed unfit to live in. Meaning that nobody knew where Bucky lived right now. T’Challa agreed to drop it for the night.

And by that he didn’t really mean it because once he was safe inside his room, he took out the kimoyo beads from the safe in his room and dialed Shuri.

“Brother!” Shuri chimed happily when she picked up the call. Her face showed that she was really glad to finally hear from his brother after some time. “Why are you calling at this ungodly hour?”

It was 8 p.m. where T’Challa was, so it was around 10 p.m. in Wakanda.

“Forgive me, Shuri. I really need your help.”

“Wow, no greetings or asking how I am doing? I am hurt, T’Challa.”

T’Challa frowned at his sister. “Please, Shuri.”

“I am fine, thank you. There,” Shuri grinned. “Alright. What is it?”

T’Challa cannot believe his sister sometimes. “I need you to hack my university’s database.”

Shuri widened her eyes. “What? Why? You want to change some grades?”

T’Challa groaned, “No, Shuri. I need to look for someone and I don’t know where he is. I don’t know where he lives.”

“You’re stalking someone?”

“Not stalking, Shuri. I am inclined to believe that he is in danger, so please.”

Shuri sighed. “Okay, alright.” She fumbled a little bit with something before asking, “What am I looking for?”

“James Buchanan Barnes. Faculty of Arts and Sciences. Year of Admission 2017. I need his registered address.”

T’Challa didn’t realise he had been holding his breath if not for the long sigh he did when his sister said, “Got it!”

She, then, told him Bucky’s address and T’Challa quickly recorded it on his kimoyo beads.

“Is this the guy you’ve been pining on for the whole semester?”

T’Challa smiled and nodded. “We’re together now.”

“Wah! Congratulations, Brother. I told you that you must do something about it.”

T’Challa grinned. “I have to find him now, otherwise I won’t have a boyfriend by the end of this semester.”

“Go get your man, Brother.”

“Thanks, Shuri.”

Shuri nodded and wished him good luck before disconnecting. T’Challa tapped on his kimoyo beads, bringing up the hologram of the direction the Bucky’s registered address. He had somewhere to go, but not before shooting a text to Steve and Sam telling them that he was going after Bucky.

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

“Bucky, it’s good to see you,” Zemo greeted Bucky. A sly, fake smile plastered on his face.

_No, no, no, no, no, no. This can’t be happening. Why is he here? Oh Gosh, what do I do._

“Uncle,” Bucky greeted back.

Zemo walked closer to Bucky. “I didn’t know you drink coffee in the morning.”

“I had a tiring night,” Bucky replied shortly. Suddenly his joints ache, numerous phantom pain hit his senses from memory.

“I would imagine so.”

Zemo smiled again. “I didn’t know you have black friends, Bucky.”

Bucky felt as if a lightning had just struck him on the spot. “I-I do. Sam and I have been—“

His uncle pursed his lips and shook his head dismissively. “No, not Wilson. I know Wilson. There’s someone else.”

“Well, Rhodes is Steve’s boyfr—“

“Let’s go home, Bucky. You can’t stay here anymore.”

Bucky started to panic. “But…I haven’t finished the semester.”

“Considering that you will work for me after you graduate. You don’t really need to graduate. You can just skip to working for me.”

“Uncle, please. College is the only place where I—“

“Where you can suck black cocks? We’re going home now, Bucky.”

_How could he know? Oh Gods, please don’t let him hurt T’Challa._

Bucky struggled around Zemo’s death grip on his prosthetic arm. His uncle had pulled it off his arm socket once and the pain was unbearable. They had to do an expensive surgery to reattach it and fix some ripped out muscles around the shoulder. Bucky never wanted to experience that again.

“Uncle, please. Just… let me finish the semester and then I’ll drop out.”

“ _No, Bucky._ ” Zemo’s voice was hard and even though he knew he could be beaten into a pulp, he tried anyway. He shoved Zemo away as strong as he could and ran. It was the first time he physically defied Zemo and it felt great. He was really scared, more scared than he ever did before but the hope of finally getting away from Zemo kept his feet going to take him away, anywhere, just away from Zemo. Preferably going to T’Challa and asked to him to run away together but he didn’t want Zemo to know anything about T’Challa.

He stopped in front of the medicine faculty and took a deep breath. This was the farthest building of his campus. He hoped Zemo wouldn’t find him there. With that thought he entered a random empty classroom and sat down to take a breather.

“Barnes.”

The sudden voice sent a shock of fear through Bucky’s body. _It’s not Zemo’s voice_ , his brain supplied. Bucky turned to look at the source of the voice. It was Stephen Strange from the Avengers Initiative club.

“Oh, Strange. What are you doing here?”

Strange furrowed his eyebrows and walked to a chair at the front and put down his backpack.

“I’m going to have an Anatomy lecture in this room soon. What are _you_ doing here?”

“Chillin’,”

Bucky knew that Strange’s eyebrows had reached his hairline when he heard Bucky’s answer. “Okay?”

Suddenly an idea popped up in Bucky’s head. He was never one to ask anyone for anything. Steve was his best friend since forever and Sam was his closest friend beside Steve and he never asked them for anything. He never asked anything from T’Challa because he didn’t want to bother other people, especially the people that he loved. But at this moment, Strange seemed like just the right person to help him. He knew that Stark and Strange were close over their shared love for Arthur Conan Doyle’s detective novels. At least, Bucky was sure that Strange would not actively put harm in his way.

“I’m running away from my abusive uncle because he’s a racist homophobe and he wants to beat me up for dating T’Challa. Can you please let me stick with you through the whole day? I promise I’ll leave you alone in the evening.”

Strange’s answer of _Fine_ was quick and Bucky was surprised. _Maybe doctors are trained to be charitable as fuck_.

“Thank you, Strange.”

 

By the end of the day, Bucky had decided that Strange could be really mean at times—not like Bucky himself was an angel but still—and that Bucky was glad he didn’t study medicine. He thought he never had problems with dead people and gore, but apparently watching Strange mashed guts around made him change his mind.

“I have a car. Do you want to stay with me or go somewhere else?” Strange had asked Bucky as the aspiring doctor tidied up his things to go home for the day.

“Stay with you?”

Strange shrugged. “I share a flat with a few other people who seemed to be really into voodoo but that’s about it.”

Bucky contemplated for a few seconds before shaking his head. “I have bothered you enough, Strange, so no, thank you.”

“Do you have anywhere to go where your uncle can’t find you? What about T’Challa?”

“I can’t have my uncle know anything about T’Challa. I’ll call him later. Can you please take me to Steve and Tony’s house then?”

Strange agreed and drove them there. Bucky was glad and was thanking the Force that brought Strange to him today. He probably should be more religious, like Steve, but whatever, not important right now. They arrived at Steve and Tony’s house not long after. Bucky hopped down and thanked Strange again.

“No problem. You can always ask me for help anytime, Barnes.”

Bucky nodded and quickly ran inside before Zemo could spot him and get to him. He was surprised to see Steve, Stark, Natasha and Barton inside and looking at him like a godsent when entered the house.

“What’s wrong guys?”

“Buck, you’re alright,” Steve said.

“Yeah, I’m alright, man. What happened?”

“We thought Zemo got to you,” Sam answered.

_How could they know?_

“No, no. I’m alright. Where’s T’Challa?”

“He’s gone to look for you.” Natasha was the one to answer this time.

“Look for me?! Where?!”

Stark offered his phone to him. “He said he’s coming to get you here.”

Bucky’s eyes widened when he saw his—Zemo’s—home address written on the screen of Stark’s phone.

“No, no, no, no, no. Fuck, he can’t go there! Zemo’s there!”

“He thought you were there, Buck. Why didn’t you call him and tell him that you’re alright?”

“Zemo was… He was here. He knows about me and T’Challa, I don’t know how but he does. He was going to take me back, but I ran. T’Challa can’t go there!”

Bucky quickly pulled his phone out from his bag.

_78 Text Messages, 35 Missed Calls from Challa._

He tapped on T’Challa’s icon to call him. There was no answer. He tried a few more times with no luck.

“Fuck,” he cursed. “This can’t be happening. I have to go.”

“No, Buck,” Steve said. “You’re not going there alone.”

“T’Challa went alone for me. I’ll go get him. It’s my fault.”

“You know it’s not y—“

“Please, guys. Just come a little bit later, yeah? I have to face my fear and T’Challa’s there… I… can’t let anything bad happen to him.”

Steve nodded. “We’ll go a few minutes after you left.”

Barton threw Bucky his car key. “Take my car, Barnes.”

Bucky nodded and all but flew out of the house. Zemo destroyed and took away everything that he loved. Bucky wasn’t going to let him take away T’Challa too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens!  
> Don't forget to leave kudos and comments! Thanks for all the love and feedbacks you guys have been giving me. Keep them up! I love you!
> 
> -21bangsfangirl

**Author's Note:**

> Work title and Chapter Titles are inspired by SZA's song, Garden (Say It Like Dat).
> 
> First chapter! What do you guys think?  
> Let me know in the comments! Don't forget to leave kudos too!


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